


Six Months (and definitely counting)

by MystMelody



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Fireplaces, Fluff and Smut, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2020-03-13 09:16:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18937960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MystMelody/pseuds/MystMelody
Summary: After Draco has what he considers a very reasonable response to a rather rude Muggle, he is placed on house arrest for six months with no visitors allowed.Unfortunately for them both, no exception is made allowing for his boyfriend of more than a year to come over, leaving them both a little... frustrated. They’re left with their only means of communicating being owls and floo calls, neither of which are particularly satisfying.Can these two find a solution that will make the six months whiz by?





	Six Months (and definitely counting)

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and do not make any financial gain from this work.

Draco knew that he shouldn’t have done it. 

He’d known it was a stupid decision at the time, and yet when had that stopped him before? As the papers had been enjoying explaining in great detail, Draco had made a fair few bad decisions in his life.

So now here he was on house arrest for six bloody months, with no visitors outside of the one approved house elf that was allowed to bring him essential supplies. Apparently his boyfriend didn’t count as an essential supply as much has Draco would have liked to argue that he very definitely was, so Draco was forced to communicate with him via owl and floo only. 

His boyfriend was particularly displeased with him. Apparently six months without sex was something of an imposition for him, and Draco couldn’t really argue with that. He wasn’t delighted with that either, but then, as Draco had argued multiple times, this whole thing wasn’t even Draco’s fault. Not really.

“Draco! Are you there?”

Draco sighed, moving to look at the head in his floo. He wished that he’d had the forethought to actually make himself look a little more put together before now, but there was no time for that.

“Yeah I’m here,” he said, stepping into view, “how are you, Harry?”

Harry just huffed.

“Ok, stupid question. Look, do I have to apologise again?”

“It wouldn’t hurt!” Harry snapped. “For fuck’s sake, Draco, six months! What were you thinking?”

“We’ve been over this,” Draco groaned, “Look, Harry, I’m sorry that I snapped, but that Muggle totally had it coming! What the hell was he doing yelling at us like that?”

“You know I don’t like it either when people react like that to us kissing,” Harry sighed, “but Draco you can’t just punch people in the face every time you hear some kind of homophobic comment!”

It was Draco’s turn to huff this time, as he crossed his arms and looked away from Harry. They’d had this argument every day since Draco was arrested and was awaiting his trial. Draco really didn’t agree that he had to just deal with that kind of crap, whatever Harry might say. Why shouldn’t he stand up for himself? For both of them?

“Look, love, I know why you did it,” Harry continued, “but look what’s happened now. You knew they’d throw the book at you for anything to do with Muggles.”

“I know,” Draco admitted, “I still maintain that six months is extreme though.”

“Of course it is! No one else would have got more than a fine. But you know the public still struggles...”

“With us?” Draco finished for him, and Harry nodded. “Yes, of course I’m aware that the average idiot on the street can’t accept our relationship, but I would have expected the Wizengamot to hold themselves to a higher standard.”

“I know. Look, I need to head off, I’m going out tonight with Seamus and a couple of the other guys from work. You’ll be alright?”

“It’s only day one, Harry. Ask me again in five months and I’ll let you know.”

“Alright. Well, I’ll call you again tomorrow. Love you.”

“Love you too, Harry.”

***

It had been stupid not to ask Harry what he’d meant when he’d said to Draco that he’d be going out that night. Not that he had to ask him, no, the papers had saved him that trouble. Draco wished they hadn’t been included as essential for him to see while eating his breakfast.

There Harry was, dancing away happily in various nightclubs, body pressed far too close against far too many different men for Draco’s liking. They usually went together and Draco could intervene before the dancing turned into something more like rutting, which, he thought with disgust, appeared to be exactly what his bloody boyfriend had done with half of London the night previous. 

He’d known it was a big ask for Harry to wait for him for six months. Still, he’d naively just assumed that he would. They’d been together for over a year at this point, and Harry was always telling Draco how much he loved him. Still, going from the many lewd photos printed in today’s Prophet, it looked like Harry could barely control himself for a night let alone several months.

He’d only just finished the last of his toast when he heard the floo chime. Not bothering to rush there right away, he helped himself to a large swig of pumpkin juice, as he finally heard Harry’s voice calling out to him.

“Draco! Oi, Draco! I know you’re there, you idiot, you literally can’t leave your house. Will you come and talk to me?”

Draco sighed, resigning himself to the fact that Harry was actually correct, and being the stubborn fool that he was, might be there for half the day if Draco didn’t answer him.

“Yes?”

“Draco! Oh, thank you, I was worried you wouldn’t talk to me.”

“Why is that?” Draco cut in. “Because you thought the best way to let me know that you couldn’t control yourself for a few bloody months was via the fucking papers?”

“Draco, listen to me, please. The stories they’ve written... everything they’ve implied... none of it’s true, I swear. I didn’t do anything with anyone. I just danced a bit.”

“Yeah, right, dancing. You know you can do that with more than a millimetre between you?”

“Look, I know you’re angry, but don’t be ridiculous. You know how packed those clubs are. It was just a night out with some mates, we drank, we danced, and then I went home to my bed, all alone because my ridiculously gorgeous but equally idiotic boyfriend got himself put on house arrest.”

“Oh. So you weren’t fucking all those eager looking men?”

Harry snorted. “I’m honoured you think so much of my stamina, really, but no, Draco. Look, this whole thing will only work if you trust me.”

Draco hung his head, a sense of shame washing over him. Of course Harry was right. “I do trust you,” he whispered after a moment, “it’s just hard seeing that. Reading it all. I don’t know how I’ll cope for six months.”

“We will,” Harry assured him, with much more confidence than Draco felt. 

“It’s a long time, Harry. You’ve already complained about not getting to have sex for that long, but really there’s nothing stopping you.”

“Yes there is, you utter moron. The fact that you’re stuck here, and no matter how much I plead to the bloody minister, I’m not allowed to come and see you.”

“You pleaded to the Minister?”

“Of course! How is it fair that I’m being punished too? Only... he didn’t entirely see it that way. So no visits, I’m afraid.”

“At least I can see your face,” Draco conceded, reaching out and running his hand gently along Harry’s cheek. “I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t see you at all.”

Harry turned his head and gently kissed Draco’s hand. “I’m glad we’ve got this too,” Harry said quietly, “we will get through this. Just promise me that once you’re released, you won’t go attacking muggles again?”

Draco made an angry tutting noise. “Hardly. Although I can’t promise I’ll be polite if one starts talking to us like that again.” He didn’t even need to see Harry to know that he’d rolled his eyes.

“I guess that’ll have to do for now. Look, love, I have to get to work, I just wanted to make sure you were fine first, okay? I’ll call you again tonight.”

“Sure. Have a good day, Harry.”

***

The next few weeks passed painfully slowly. Draco wished that he could at least have a decent meal; for all that the food provided by the ministry fully met his nutritional needs, the taste varied from bland to even more bland.

Harry had tried to smuggle him some condiments through the floo, however this hadn’t been successful. Apparently trying to get around the rules that way just resulted in the items exploding in a variety of colourful fireworks which left a smattering of multicoloured dust throughout Draco’s living room. After spending two hours cleaning up the mess, he wasn’t in a hurry to try that again.

The articles about Harry’s life while he was, according to the papers, “free” from Draco, had continued. Draco was getting better at ignoring the stories of Harry’s many supposed conquests, even if he had torn up this morning’s paper into shreds with his bare hands before casting an Incendio at the remains. His tolerance only extended so far after all.

What really was driving him crazy, as he had known that it would, was the lack of contact with Harry. In the year that they’d been together, they’d never gone so long without physical contact. Especially the intimate kind. The odd touch of each other’s face as they floo called back and forth really just didn’t cut it. 

So it was that one morning nearly two months into his six month house arrest, Draco had what may have been his best idea yet, or the beginning of a complete disaster. Not wanting to wait to find out which it was, he grabbed some floo powder and called Harry immediately.

“Harry! Are you there?”

He heard the distant sound of what sounded like footsteps, which he sincerely hoped belonged to his boyfriend and not to one of the leagues of hangers on that frequented his flat. Draco had learnt to be civilised to the hoards of Weasleys that he now saw on a regular basis, but he didn’t want to see them more than necessary either, especially not now when he thought their presence would truly ruin his plans.

“Draco! Hey! I hadn’t thought I’d hear from you this early. Is everything okay?”

Draco nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Sorry I know you’re usually busy in the day, but you don’t just have a minute to talk do you?”

“Of course. You know it’s Saturday, right?”

Draco scowled. “Yes, and if I hadn’t, it would have been pretty easy to figure out given that over breakfast this morning, I read far too much detail about what you supposedly did to celebrate the beginning of the weekend.”

“Not this again...” Harry grumbled.

“That’s not why I called,” Draco hastened to add, “although if you could get those idiots to stop writing that shit about you I’d appreciate it. No, I called because I had an idea.”

“Did you now? I’m intrigued.”

For the first time, Draco felt a pang of nervousness that had nothing to do with whether or not his idea was feasible, and was entirely to do with Harry’s reaction. 

“Well,” he began slowly, “you know how when we call each other, we can sort of touch? Like you’ve played with my hair, stroked my cheek and so on?”

“Yes...” Harry said slowly.

“See, the thing is, well, it’s just that I was thinking, um, maybe if you thought it was a good idea too - -”

“Spit it out, Draco,” Harry laughed. 

“Wecouldprobablytouchotherstuff.”

“Pardon?”

“Um, we. We could probably, you know, touch other stuff. Through the floo. You know. Fun stuff.”

Draco held his breath, unable to make himself look up to meet Harry’s eyes, focussing instead on an interesting looking log lying next to his face amongst the flames.

“Draco Malfoy, are you propositioning me?”

Draco chuckled. “Why, Harry Potter, I suppose that I am.”

“Excellent. So what exactly did you have in mind for me to touch then?”

“I think you bloody well know.”

It was Harry’s turn to laugh at that. “You see I have some ideas, but it would be so much more fun to hear you say it.”

“Fine,” Draco grunted out, “Harry, would you be ever so kind to see what would happen if you stuck your cock through my floo?”

He was delighted to see that his words actually made Harry flush, a deep red surging it’s way up through his neck and into his face. 

“Me!” Harry squeaked. “I thought your idea was for you to try it first! I don’t want my bits to be set on fire! Or turned into a bloody firework display.”

“I was trying to be considerate,” Draco groused, “but I would be more than happy to let you pleasure me. If you were willing.”

“Oh fuck, Draco, you know I’m fucking willing. It’s been two sodding months since I got to put my hands on you and it’s driving me insane. I had to bloody wank at work the other day, did you know that? It’s a nightmare.”

That certainly helped Draco’s ego. “Did you really? I’m honoured. Should we try this now then, or would you rather wait until tonight?”

“Not waiting. Now. I want to touch you right now.”

“Okay. Give me a minute. I’ll stop this call and try to reestablish it, with you know...”

“Your cock there all ready for me?”

“Something like that,” Draco grinned.

Once he’d pulled his head back out of the flames, he took a moment to pull himself together. He was now hard as a rock and desperate for nothing more than to shove his lower half into the flames, not giving a fuck about what might happen. But Harry did have a point about the being set on fire thing. Perhaps he should consider this more carefully.

His cock seemed to be thinking only one thing though, and he decided he’d just have to risk it. He couldn’t go on for four more months like this, that much was certain, and maybe having his bits burnt off might help crush his libido a bit. Not that he would necessarily even count on that at this point.

Throwing caution to the literal flames, Draco threw in some floo powder again, stripped his trousers and pants off, and then flung his lower body into the fireplace, hoping against all hope that the worst that would happen is that he’d be sent tumbling back out onto the cold tiles of his hearth.

The moment seemed to go on for eternity, and then he gave a yelp as he felt a hand wrap around his cock. He had no idea if Harry could hear him or not, but if he kept doing what he was doing, Draco honestly wasn’t going to be entirely interested in conversation anyway.

“Is that okay, Draco? Can you hear me?” 

Harry’s voice was faint, much fainter than it would have been normally, but he could hear him, and most importantly feel him, exactly as he’d wanted to.

“Yes!” Draco cried. “Fuck, yes, that’s brilliant, Harry. Please don’t stop.”

Draco could have sworn that he heard a chuckle at that. Harry’s hand continued stroking up and down Draco’s shaft, a tortuous combination of wonderful and not nearly enough at the same time. Draco tried bucking his hips to get more from Harry, to speed up his rhythm, but that just made Harry slow down further, the utter sadist.

“Hang on,” he heard Harry say, “be patient. I’ve got something else I want to try.”

“I’m not going to be patient for bloody long, Potter. In case you’ve forgotten, it’s been two bloody months!”

“Hmm. I recall. I thought this might be to your liking though.”

Draco’s retort was cut off as he suddenly felt the truly glorious sensation of Harry’s tongue licking a firm stripe up his shaft while his hands continued to fondle his balls underneath.

“Oh, yes, fuck, Harry, please,” Draco babbled.

Thankfully Harry didn’t answer, instead using his tongue to gently lap at the head of Draco’s cock now. Draco had been fantasising about this exact thing for weeks, and yet somehow none of his fantasies were as anywhere close to brilliant as the real thing. And Harry hadn’t even properly got started yet.

“I’m not going to last long,” Draco warned breathlessly, his embarrassment of his stamina disappearing with every little lick that Harry gave him.

Finally, Harry put him out of his misery and swallowed Draco down as far as he could go, sucking obscenely around him. He still used his hands to caress what he couldn’t get down his throat, so that the sensations truly threatened to overwhelm Draco at any moment.

“Harry!” Draco cried in warning, “I’m gonna come!”

Harry just swirled his tongue around the head of Draco’s cock by way of reply, before pushing himself back down onto Draco, somehow taking in even more than he had before. When Draco felt himself hit the back of Harry’s throat, he knew that it was all over for him. He started to feel himself tingle, his balls drew up tight, and the next moment he was coming in a rush, screaming Harry’s name over and over.

He came back to himself after a moment, remembering where he was, and the discomfort from having to lie awkwardly on his elbows hit him in full force. He called out to Harry to give him a minute and he’d call him back, before extracting his lower half from the fireplace, sitting down on the floor, and casting some cleaning charms over himself.

Harry appeared a moment later, clearly not wanting to wait to talk to Draco. He could see Harry’s lips looking red and puffy, and another wave of arousal hit him as he was reminded of what they’d just done.

“Hey,” Draco said lamely, with what he was sure would be a ridiculously soppy smile gracing his features.

“Hey yourself,” Harry replied. “I take it that you enjoyed that then?”

“Oh fuck, yes,” Draco answered enthusiastically, not even caring about how smug that made Harry look in return. “But what can I do for you?” 

“You know, Draco, I really don’t care, as long as you get me off, and fast. I got so fucking close just by tasting you and I’m ready to pop any moment here.”

“Well then. I suppose you better get rid of that face of yours from my fireplace and replace it with your bloody gorgeous cock.”

Harry didn’t need to be asked twice. He grinned at Draco once, and then disappeared with a quiet pop. As Draco patiently waited for another part of his boyfriend’s anatomy to appear, he decided that this house arrest thing maybe wasn’t so bad after all. It was looking like the next four months might just even be enjoyable.


End file.
